


Slicking Beauty

by R_ATIN



Category: SB19 (Band)
Genre: Alpha John Paulo Nase | Sejun, Alpha!Sejun is a nerd, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Romance, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, KenTell bestpals, M/M, Mating, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Not Beta Read, Omega Stellvester "Stell" Ajero, Omega!Stell is a bully, Omegaverse, Oral Sex, Rutting, Sex Toys, Smut, Teasing, mild bullying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28232931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_ATIN/pseuds/R_ATIN
Summary: Vester Ajero is just that, a dick."I'm n-not an Omega!" John Paulo cries out, slapping the table with an open fist that makes Vester chuckle humourlessly. "I mean, not...yet. I, I haven’t presented so—“"Does it matter?” Vester cuts in. “You're bound to be an Omega anyway. Or perhaps, you were hoping to become a Beta? Your dad's a Beta after all."Vester watches with interest as John Paulo’s jaw tenses and his lips purse at the slighting remark, yet they both know it was futile and the future Alpha scoffs when in the end, John Paulo can only exhale his frustrations away, lowering his fist and slumping on his seat in defeat.
Relationships: Stellvester "Stell" Ajero & John Paulo Nase | Sejun, Stellvester "Stell" Ajero/John Paulo Nase | Sejun
Comments: 33
Kudos: 80





	1. STRAWBERRIES AND LILIES

**Author's Note:**

> They say good things come to those who wait. I guess warriors have waited long enough so finally, here's a StellJun OMEGAVERSE multi-chaptered fic for us. Yey! This is a commissioned fic, by the way, so huge thanks to my commissioner because hadn't this been requested, this story may have eternally rotted in my head. I've always dreamed about writing A/B/O but I feel like I don't know enough; though I must have read thousands of it. Anyway, I'm continuously researching and gaining knowledge about it. I promise to write this as best as I can. I hope you enjoy and do let me know your thoughts!

_Saccharine. Fresh. Pleasant._

It is how the gently blowing breeze, caressing the soft fringe of Vester Ajero’s hair, smells to most people, even to him. Spring is quickly approaching, if the clear sapphire skies and rhythmic cherry petal showers were anything to go by. This likewise means another thing; spring school break is finally here.

Wrinkling his nose caused by some stray pollen, he bites the tip of his tongue to prevent a tactless sneeze; he succeeds. Adjusting the bridge of his eyeglasses resting on his nose, as well as the collar of his polo shirt, he proceeds to walk along the busy street like it is his domain. Vester ensures to look and feel good, strong and dominant at all times. It comes naturally, especially when one is being groomed to be the perfect Alpha, and future head of the famed Ajero Pack, the most influential descent of Alphas in the City.

At the lush age of 20, Vester has yet to present his secondary gender. But then, nobody would question this, because it might as well have been questioning the existence of a divine being. 

His father is an Alpha, his grandfather and all the fathers before them are Alphas. Every single male in his father’s lineage is an Alpha ( _except for a distant cousin who presented to be an Omega on his 18th birthday, tarnishing what could’ve been a purebred bloodline._ ) It is therefore inevitable; Vester Ajero was born to become an Alpha.

He keeps walking, and each step is dripping in arrogance.

_“Hey!”_ a familiar baritone voice comes from behind and Vester quickly dodges what would’ve been a blow against his shoulder blade, spinning to his left foot and effectively deflecting the unforeseen attack. _“Ooh! That was smooth AF!”_

Vester catches the closed fist of the voice-owner and gives it a happy light bump. His best friend since the third grade, Ken Suson, drapes an arm around Vester’s shoulder, while the latter’s arm comfortably rests on Ken’s waist.

_“Dummy. I can sense you from a mile away.”_ Snorts Vester.

_“Huh. I’m honestly about to believe that.”_ Ken admits sincerely.

They march along the bustling avenue leading to their university, quickly disappearing right into the corner.

♡

The bell rings and echoes throughout the bright building halls, and no one is decently audacious to block the walkway of Events Management Class in room 0838 when the clock strikes 12 noon. Every student halts and moves aside to make way for Vester Ajero, and all but flinches as soon as the massive classroom door whips open with a resounding bang of heavy metal, spilling Vester and Ken outside.

_“That’s right,”_ Ken announces, stepping out loftily with both hands tucked inside his pockets. _“Make way, mudbloods—oof!”_ Ken recoils when he feels the back of Vester’s hand slapping his belly and groans. _“Aish! What was that for?”_

_“Shut up,”_ Vester whispers. _“You’re making it look tacky.”_

_“Harry Potter ain’t tacky, you uncultured swine!”_

_“Oh my god, shut the fuck up Kenji.”_

Omegas and Betas, both male and female, swoon after the tall, lean and beautiful future Alpha, in stark contrast to the other student Alphas in the hall, both lower and upperclassmen, who roll their eyes and snort at Vester’s overwhelming conceit. But it is as far as they can go, for even though Vester is shorter and leaner than most Alphas, everybody knows for a fact that his combat skills are unrivaled. Many have tried, and many have failed.

Three floors down and Vester and Ken reach the cafeteria, walking straight into the thick of people that automatically creates a division between the crowds like the Red Sea. Sending Ken off to another table where some of their other classmates sit, the future Alpha treads on his own across the aisle, and his sure footsteps take him to a table where a boy in a messy half-bun and spectacles quietly spends his lunch break.

There is a noticeable flinch to the boy's shoulders when Vester shuffles the other boy’s hair, hauls the metal chair just in front of him, and sits cockily, man-spreading immodestly with a boyish smirk. Taking a quick glimpse at the boy's plate and seeing he has almost finished his meal, Vester shakes his head in disappointment. 

_"Almost done? But I just got here."_ Vester frowns, examining the face of the boy who doesn't even spare a glance in his direction. _"Were you in a hurry, Nase? You're not trying to avoid me, are you?"_

The boy just looks at his plate in silence, head bowed low thinking if he doesn’t pay attention to Vester, the latter might just render him useless and leave. So this he does, and his slightly trembling hand proceeds to lift the spoonful of rice into his waiting mouth; only it doesn't reach past his lips when Vester yanks his wrist a little rougher than usual, spilling the rice and piece of meat onto the table. The boy sighs sadly at the demise of his precious beef strip.

_"Ah, you clumsy prick. Your fault. You clean that up,"_ Vester says _. "But after you get me my lunch."_

Digging up a crumpled 500 bill from his pants, Vester flings it over to John Paulo Nase, where it lands carelessly beside his tray. Still, he doesn't say anything, but he grunts sensibly and takes the bill into his hand, and sets his meal out of the way, dutifully striding onto Vester’s side while waiting for his instructions.

_"Dragon Noodles and Soda,"_ he says casually and the boy turns swiftly on his heel, only to halt when he feels a hand gripping the hem of his polo shirt. _"Strawberry shortcake too. Be quick."_ and the boy finally takes off to the food counter.

It doesn’t take five minutes when John Paulo is already brisk-walking back to their table and carefully prepares Vester’s meal; his brows set in the middle like he was in deep concentration. When Vester waves a hand at him, he takes a seat back to his original spot, contemplating whether or not he should finish his lunch that has since gone cold and clammy.

_"Good boy,”_ Vester praises, making John Paulo sigh _. “This is why you're my favorite Omega."_

It isn’t as though this was the first time Vester calls him his favorite Omega. In fact, John Paulo has been putting up with the younger boy’s overbearing insolence since he transferred to this university two years ago, and he continues to live through it. But not because he knows better than to meet head-on against the future leader of the most prominent pack in their City doesn’t mean he accepts that fate naively.

He knows Stellvester Ajero well enough; he picks fights with Alphas, taunts Betas, makes fun of Omegas, and by some sort of luck, he becomes his _cherry-on-top_ because he’s this huge-ass anti-social nerd whose only friend is his grubby, old guitar. It was nothing too harsh though; Vester just makes him carry his bag or his books, makes him buy his food and blocks him along the hallways to stare him down and say some dick things.

Vester Ajero is just that, a dick.

_"I'm n-not an Omega!"_ John Paulo cries out, slapping the table with an open fist that makes Vester chuckle humourlessly. _"I mean, not...yet. I, I haven’t presented so—“_

_"Does it matter?”_ Vester cuts in _. “You're bound to be an Omega anyway. Or perhaps, you were hoping to become a Beta? Your dad's a Beta after all."_

Vester watches with interest as John Paulo’s jaw tenses and his lips purse at the slighting remark, yet they both know it was futile and the future Alpha scoffs when in the end, John Paulo can only exhale his frustrations away, lowering his fist and slumping on his seat in defeat.

_“I wonder how it feels, huh?”_ Vester asks. _“To be weak and emotional and have this weird liquid seeping through your ass all the time like—“_

_“Stop it.”_

_“I’m just saying—“_

_“I said stop it.”_

John Paulo tears himself off the table and walks away, leaving Vester watching the other boy go, and he shakes his head in amusement.

♡

After that, Vester doesn’t get to see John Paulo again the entire week, and until the school spring break began.

♡

One month of Spring glides past in a fluttering haze, and Vester can irrevocably say he’s done everything there is to kill time.

He comes to see the thriving cherry blossom trees by the esplanade and spends time with his mom and younger sister underneath the shades, taking selcas and letting Rose Jean braid his hair and put flowers in between his jet-black strands. He doesn’t say that he actually thinks it’s too embarrassing, especially for an Alpha like him, but he wouldn’t want his sister crying and his mom coming at him again with a broom in her hand, ready to whack the shit out of him.

When Vester’s dad came home from an overseas trip, which is hardly ever to be honest, he finds himself in the middle of the pack headquarters where meetings and council elections are being held. But since Vester’s father is the current head Alpha, he holds the most power and has the authority to approve and disapprove whatever the outcome. _Soon,_ Vester thinks, soon enough, he will just be like his father.

On some lazy days, he will pick Ken up at their villa just across the hills, and they will go for the usual three-mile morning runs that end up in taking a wash by the river, soaked deep enough where the waters are sloshing around their hips; their sweat-drenched clothes resting on the riverbank.

_“I don’t want to go back to school,”_ Ken groans, resting on the grassy shoreline, allowing the sun to dry his damp limbs.

_“This is already our last year. You’re so lazy,”_ Vester smirks.

_“I’m not lazy. I’m just exceptionally driven to not do anything.”_

If they aren’t running and have the luxury of time, they either go around on a bike or go for a hike at a nearby cliff where they seek out those rare first Sunfire plants, snowdrops, and other spring flowers that are said to only grow a few days in a year. When they reach the plateau, they normally spend a few more hours playing softball or pitch a tent and just enjoy the cool spring weather in the great outdoors.

Barely two weeks left before the last year of their school starts again when Vester decides to treat himself to the cinema one fine day. He feels the need for some alone time, thus refusing to answer Ken’s barrage of calls and text messages as he deems necessary. He watches the latest sci-fi action film, indulges in a tub of his favorite ice cream, buys a couple of new games for his Nintendo Switch, and raids the groceries for ingredients for every dessert he plans on making before the spring break ends.

On his way home, already a little dark and where the moon is delicately suspended in the middle of twilight, Vester merrily sings to his favorite pop songs, swinging a huge bag of groceries in one hand.

He halts in his tracks when the first swirl of his vision ensues without warning.

_“Huh,”_ Vester mumbles, trying to steady his feet and quickly searches for something to grab on to. _“The fuck.”_

He swiftly finds a lamp post by the roadside and almost runs to it, fighting off the nausea. He successfully holds on to the lamppost firmly and closes his eyes, trying to pace his breathing. When he opens his eyes again, everything is still spinning and his legs start to wobble, feeling the need to collapse on the sidewalk and throw up.

_“Hhh—h-hot, h-hot, fuhck,”_ he drags the words out as he feels his palms heating up, and a sharp pain and surge of fever coil in his stomach.

Sweltering pain ripples through his muscles and his whole body trembles; his fingers unintentionally clawing on his neck to rip the buttons of his jacket off. _Off! Off! Take it off,_ his brain commands over the suffocating heat setting his entire body in flames.

_“Vester!”_

He hears a voice in the middle of his ordeal but doesn’t have the strength to see who it was.

_“Vester…—on fire,…—to get you home!”_

He can’t make of anything out of the words swimming inside his head. What he does know, is his feet are no longer touching the pavement, and the cold spring air gently hits his face as the faceless stranger who knows his name scoops him up and takes him somewhere in haste. Vester can only pray that he is being rushed to his house, after all, everyone knows an Ajero, and their town isn’t that huge not to know where the esteemed family resides.

His mind clears up a little and the pain in his abdomen melts into a more bearable sting just as soon he feels he is being dropped carefully onto his feet. Good thing he wasn’t that far away from his house when he started feeling weird. But when he settles on his feet and turns to face his Good Samaritan, he feels even weirder.

_“J-John P-Paulo?”_ surprise and embarrassment washes over Vester like a tidal wave.

_“Uhm, hi,”_ the spectacled boy nods awkwardly.

They stay quiet for half a minute before Vester decides to sputter something he knows is foolish and reckless, just to cease the discomfiting silence from stretching even longer.

_“That’s the first and last time you’re touching me, Omega,”_ Vester says as a warning before turning on his heels.

He might’ve been expecting such a response from the other but it still makes John Paulo gape in both surprise and disbelief. There isn’t much he can do but chuckle and breathe in deep; and the moment he does so, however, he frowns.

Something intensely sweet and fruity wafts in the air and touches his nostrils. _What was that?_ Smells like…strawberries; and some flowery fragrance that he can’t put a finger on. He’s sure as hell it’s not his cologne, thus out of sheer nosiness, he begins sniffing the air around him, stepping closer, and closer to where he finds the scent more potent and—

_“What the—hey! Are you sniffing my butt you little shit?”_

_“Well, that’s a unique way of saying thank you, to be honest.”_

Vester scoffs. _“You’re expecting me to thank you? Are you sick in the head? You should be honored you even got to touch me and bring me home. You can leave now.”_

John Paulo rolls his eyes, and so does Vester, the latter finally spins around as he watches the older boy vacate their premises. Vester limps his way to the main entrance, feeling the blooming pain in his stomach once again. His face contorts in the heat that’s slowly creeping its way across his entire body and he scrambles toward the door, yelling for his mother when he reaches the living area.

_“Mom! Mom!” he screams, gathering the last ounces of his strength before he crumbles across the carpeted floor._

♡

The air is dense and heavy with the scent of strawberries and Lilies hanging thick in the confined space of Vester’s room. He whimpers amidst the searing haze enveloping him and the shame tints his entire face flushed. He knows, Vester knows now and he cries, wanting to tear his clothes and his limbs apart as he watches his entire life crash before his eyes.

This, all this, is nothing else but heat. _His first heat_ _as a fucking Omega._

_“Baby?”_ the sweet voice of his mother chimes from outside his bedroom door and her lovely chamomile scent pierces in.

Vester has never quite noticed how strong his mother’s scent is until now, and if this was an ordinary day, he might have found it soothing. But no, it smells so wrong that his stomach flips in distaste.

_“I prepared an ice bath for you baby,”_ his mother settles into the little space beside his curled figure and pets his head affectionately. He whines. _“And some toys too.”_

Vester whips his head in confusion. _“Toys? What do you mean toys? I’m dying here and you want me to play with some toys?”_

His mom smiles sadly at him before pulling out a small box from under his bed. When she removes the lid, Vester almost throws up.

_Dildos. Huge ass dildos of different shapes and colors._

_“Mom?! W-w-why do you h-have t-those?”_

_“Well you know, your dad’s always overseas and I need some things to get me through my heat cycles. Don’t worry! They’re perfectly safe and clean. I sanitized them for you just after you passed out.”_ His mom takes one massive dildo from the box and shows it to him excitedly. _“See this one, it’s made of silicone so it won’t hurt your butthole so much. It looks and feels real and— Vester! Oh my god!”_

Vester faints again.


	2. THE BIG BAD WOLF

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Paulo, Vester's favorite "Omega", finally presents one Spring day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing this kind of story, and I only relied on my imagination and limited vocabulary but I did my best. If you find this chapter boring or flawed, please accept my apologies. Note that this was non-beta read. If you have any questions, feel free to QRT/DM or leave a msg on my CC wall.
> 
> A few notes on this chapter:  
> \- The italicized narrative pertains to flashbacks.  
> \- narration-heavy, as usual.

♡

_On several, very specific occasions, John Paulo Nase wishes nothing more than to live his life as typically as he possibly can: attend school, present his wolf rank to the society, find a nine-to-five job after college, probably find a mate and settle down at a typical house within a typical town._

_For most people, typical is boring. But when things are predictable and fool-proof, John Paulo deems life will be so much easier, all things considered._

_John Paulo was born into a typical family. His father is a Beta, his mother an Omega; his oldest brother presented as Beta on his 15 th birthday, while his three younger siblings, another boy and a couple of girls, have all presented as Omegas on their 14th birthday._

_While he’s still very much safe within the age range of sub-gender presentation which is between twelve and twenty-four years, he couldn’t help but feel a little concerned._

_Eight moons ago, when the leaves were auburn and yellow, he already turned 20; and now they are on the last bouts of spring yet he still has not presented and none of the common symptoms close to presenting has ever manifested on him before, not even once._

_Safe to say, John Paulo was already way past their family’s typical age of presenting and the knowledge of it leaves him tense. It likewise doesn’t help how being the second eldest in the brood of five only increases the troubling weight discreetly settling into his core._

_At times when his mom senses his distress, she is quick to relieve any doubts and tell him that everything will be fine. Surely it doesn’t entirely alleviate his worries but nothing is far better than the calming feeling whenever his mom pats his hair and rubs her cheek on his, her meek Chamomile scent quelling him slowly to deep slumber._

_“Trust the process, my little one,” she always reminds him before kissing his hair._

_He bites his nails, and his mom will remove his hand away from his mouth ever so gently. “I do mom. It’s just—, why is it taking too long? Is something wrong with me?”_

_“Nothing is wrong with you. Everything comes to us at the right time. Be patient,” she whispers in a voice so dreamy while she tucks him to bed. “I love you, my Paulo. Now go to sleep.”_

_And thus he remains patient. Maybe he shouldn’t bother too much, he convinces himself. After all, the hype has long since faded when he reached past the age of 16 without presenting and everybody seems to have a say on his anticipated sub-gender; each one putting a finger on his posture or his hobbies or the way he speaks._

_You see, John Paulo always has this smile that’s way too wide and bright that his cheekbones rise and squeeze his eyes into these adorable thin curves. During his free days, he either has his whole face buried in between the pages of a fresh hardbound book, or he has a pen tucked into his ear, fingers on his chin, and a notebook on the other, most likely writing one of those mushy love songs of his with the help of his eight-year-old guitar that’s crafted in mahogany and rosewood._

_At the university corridors, meanwhile, one can find him walking alone with slumped shoulders, every so often pushing the bridge of his thick reading glasses up because they keep falling down; not that odd especially when his head is always bowed low like meeting anyone’s gaze was fatal in some way. On top of that, he stutters a lot in a single sentence for some reason. Simply put, John Paulo is quite the typical, socially awkward figure in the university._

_On the other hand, outside of school, he’s the endearing, friendly neighborhood kid that ensures to drop by and spend time chatting with sweet old ladies and help the elderly cross the streets. When he finally does get home, their golden retriever pup Coco, will fetch him by the door and pounce on him playfully, licking his entire face until John Paulo groans and rewards the good boy with plenty of cuddles._

_“Typical Omega traits,” he remembered his eldest brother Kev telling him one time. “Josue was a lot like you before he presented. Of course the same goes for both Alex and Denise. See? They’re all Omegas, and they’re obviously still the same way. It can’t be helped.”_

_And everybody in their family seems to share the same sentiment, thus every theory about him quite possibly presenting as an Omega is delivered more as a matter of fact than merely an observation. To this, he cannot bring himself to protest so whatever objections he has remained unheard._

_The only attribute that seems to be out of place, remarkably at that, is that John Paulo is actually pretty tall, the tallest in their family and even taller among other clan members, to be more precise. Not to mention his broad shoulders and toned arms, definitely a lean physique that boasts of hard muscles in all the right places. If one doesn’t know him personally, he can potentially be mistaken for an Alpha, and there had been a handful of times before when John Paulo was asked just that._

_And it is for the same reason that his family members were left with eyebrows knitted in confusion; but none really talks about it, so neither does he._

_“Nah. It must be your kiddie vitamins or a good brand of milk. Yeah, that must be it.” Kev pointed out a couple of years back when the subject was unexpectedly brought up. “There can’t be another explanation. I mean, what else is there? You shouldn’t overanalyze, Paulo.”_

_“You don’t have to rub it in,” John Paulo wrinkled his nose. “I just get that question, like, a lot lately.”_

_“And you’re considering it a possibility? You, being an Alpha?”_

_“Well, think about it. What if—“_

_“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kev cut him off smugly, like he just heard the most outrageous pun. “You know it’s not possible, right? It’s been what? Two generations ago since we had an actual Alpha in our bloodline. Dude, that’s half a century. You get what I’m saying?”_

_Half a century; fifty years; and all the other clans that followed through were nearly all Betas and Omegas, if not for the very seldom Deltas and Gammas here and there; but the Omegas take up the majority of their lineage which is around sixty percent in present time. Of course, of course, John Paulo understood, so he merely responded with a bored nod. Such conversation didn’t happen again since._

_To be perfectly honest, he doesn’t mind presenting as an Omega, well not anymore. It did bother him a lot but that was a long time ago; when the thought of bearing the brunt of excruciating monthly heat cycles and the possibility of giving birth frightened him more than anything. And while he knew all along that only one out of a thousand male Omegas were fertile, based on what he learned from their MATING 101 classes, distress still flared his thoughts most of the time._

_There were times he wished he could present as a Beta instead; at least they didn’t have to worry about Omega heats or Alpha ruts, most especially getting pregnant. That was one thing he was jealous of his brother Kev once in a while; having to live a most convenient and uncomplicated life._

_Either way, moping around about matters that are beyond anyone’s control was futile. John Paulo figured he had no choice and was left with nothing but to hope that he wouldn’t be that one unlucky fertile male out of a thousand when that fateful day comes. That would be one less thing to worry about, at the very least._

♡

_John Paulo learned to accept whatever the present offered him; the good things and the bad, the beautiful moments and the ugly ones, the weird and whatsoever; even the way it suddenly rains in the middle of spring, or how quickly the snow melts even in the midst of winter._

_He accepted everything as though he chose them; finding ways to work with what he has and not against it. It became his typical, and found a bubble of comfort in that element; until he had to transfer schools when their pack relocated to a different city two years ago._

_With the couple of years he spent in that new school and neighborhood, John Paulo came to realize some things; that the world is not always bright. So John Paulo owed it to himself to have a good look at the world before things get dark. Because he discovered that in the blink of an eye, all the things you’ve ever come to embrace as genuine and ideal could easily translate into something distasteful and entirely out of order._

_The world is huge, too huge. This he concludes right after spending his first day at his new university._

_Their new hometown was substantially bigger and there were countless packs out there; each one governed by head Alphas where social and hierarchical power equates supremacy, and where Betas, and most especially Omegas, are kept away from any reigns of authority. While none of these packs, or at least none that John Paulo knows of, treats Omegas as though they were servants, equality within the society was almost non-existent; particularly in those pure-blooded Alpha clans; the renowned Ajero Pack is one good example._

_“I’m sorry,” John Paulo said in between bites, forehead creasing as he chewed on his ham and cheese sandwich. “Who?”_

_“Vester Ajero. He’s the future head Alpha of the Ajeros, the most influential pack in this city,” Phoebe, his classmate, explained cautiously after looking around and making sure nobody was within earshot. “You don’t mess with that one. He’s all trouble, like literally stay out of his way.”_

_“Shh. Here comes smart-ass. Don’t look, keep your head down,” his other classmate Astrid warned before John Paulo was already burying his head into his book._

_“Why not? What’s going on?”_

_“He’s looking for a new “toy”. It happens at the start of each school year. Just keep a low profile and try not to catch his fancy.” Astrid whispered, tensed._

_John Paulo was quick to comply, even if he wasn’t sure whether he should. He had heard no such thing back in his old school, where everyone got along because they were equals, regardless of abilities and ranking. Surely the way his classmates described this Vester person was absurdly overkill?_

_His nosiness got the better of him eventually despite the heads-up, because he still looked up, eyes peeking a little through the hardbound spine of his favorite book just in time for Vester Ajero to meet his gaze while he made his way through the crowded cafeteria. John Paulo had never seen such an intense gaze in his life and he kept his fixed, faltering a little but he never looked away; discovered he couldn’t, until Vester was already pulling the seat right in front of John Paulo._

_Within the next bleary seconds, the clumsy boy took in Vester Ajero’s appearance as quickly but as accurately as he could. They seemed to be of the same height, or John Paulo was probably an inch or two taller, he couldn’t exactly tell within this proximity. He noticed he had broad shoulders, as well as a pair of lean but very nice arms exposed through the rolled sleeves of his uniform top; his longish black hair was unkempt, and as much as the thought embarrassed John Paulo, he couldn’t help but stare distractedly at Vester’s dark red lips and his strong jawline._

_John Paulo couldn’t believe he was real._

_“You’re new.” Vester started prudently, pulling John Paulo away from his own thoughts._

_He answered a shaky “y-yes,”, wincing as he failed to stop his stuttering._

_“What’s your name?”_

_“J-John Paulo N-Nase.”_

_“Ah, the new pack in town. I see,” Vester’s eyes sparkled with delight. “The Omega pack.”_

_“O-Omega pack?”_

_“Am I wrong?” Vester asked, lifting an eyebrow. “From what I’ve gathered at the council meeting, your bloodline consists of 60% Omegas, 30% Betas, and the rest are Gammas and Deltas. Not even one Alpha in the last fifty years. How interesting.”_

_John Paulo lowered his head, but the flush that crept up his face didn’t go unnoticed by the future head Alpha, immediately taking it as clear confirmation of his findings. The latter stood from his seat and leaned over, taking a quick once over at the shy new boy’s figure, and placed a hand over the crown of John Paulo’s hair._

_“You seem to be a nice boy,” Vester grinned as he messed the other boy’s hair. “We’re going to be great friends, Nase.” He added before tearing himself off the table and walking away._

_Phoebe and Astrid were silent the entire time, but there was unmistakable alarm in their eyes, that slowly turned into something that looked apologetic. John Paulo no longer needed to ask why, because the sudden turn of events had been nothing but lucid as daylight._

_True to Phoebe and Astrid’s claims, Vester had since become a constant within the next two years of John Paulo’s daily university life. In the mornings, he had come to wait for the future head Alpha by the main school entrance so he could carry his bag and his books, walking closely behind him as they headed to Vester’s first class, after which John Paulo would need to run all the way to the other side of the campus in order to make it to his first subject._

_They wouldn’t get to see each other until lunch break, where Vester would be waiting for John Paulo at a table especially saved for them throughout the year. John Paulo would buy meals for Vester, clear it up after he was finished, and walk him again to his next subject. He’d wait by the classroom of Vester’s last class so he could carry his bag and stuff again and walk him to their car, or to his university dorm room, depending on his mood and circumstances._

_He already expected to retire being Vester’s “toy” by the end of the first school year but it seemed Vester had taken a liking to him that the cycle went on until the following year. To be honest, it was manageable for John Paulo, and if being wrapped around Vester’s finger meant getting to live an undisturbed university life, then he decided there was nothing to complain about anymore._

_“No other Alpha gets to mess with you while I’m here,” Vester declared one time, and it would’ve certainly made John Paulo flustered had not the future Alpha added, “Only I can.”_

_But that had been true in every aspect. Because Vester got into brawls in and out of school nearly every other day, although it really wasn’t something to be concerned about because none of his fellow Alpha opponents even came close to his combat abilities. His grace and dexterity in his fighting fields could easily express that he was incredibly trained for battles. Probably an incentive if one was appointed to become the future Pack Alpha. And for that reason as well that nobody dared to come up against Vester Ajero’s favorite “Omega”, John Paulo Nase._

_It became his typical, once again, and another alibi for John Paulo to perfectly accept his fate as a future “Omega”. It really didn’t sound so bad already, well most of the time that is. Because Vester was one to have an ever-fluctuating mood, including those days he felt like being a complete scumbag, which meant a really bad day for anyone unfortunate enough to cross paths with Vester, but most especially for John Paulo._

_He and Vester never really had a warm relationship, to begin with, and John Paulo likewise never asked anything nor Vester really tried to talk to him. But whenever the latter actually opened his mouth, only a string of insults spill out of it like free-flowing beer. The man would become just like those power-hungry Alphas that make Omegas feel their sub-gender was an infection; that Omegas were low, powerless, and purposeless except in the kitchen to serve and in the bed to pleasure their Alphas._

_No, he never hated Vester, he was a dick but he didn’t hate him; though it didn’t mean he liked him either. Particularly on days when Vester calls him his “favorite Omega” merely to ridicule his status. And those are the specific occasions that make John Paulo fervently wish he wouldn’t come to present as an Omega._

♡

_A few days before their Spring break began; John Paulo had been feeling unwell. He was a hundred percent sure he didn’t have fever, seeing how the thermometer indicated a rather normal body temperature. But there was a persistent throbbing pain in his skull and the surface of his skin was itchy and weirdly dry, that a trail of flaky specks fell out when he gently scratched the uncomfortable spot. He was only given a couple of anti-allergy pills after dropping by the infirmary, which he immediately popped inside his equally drying mouth. He didn’t even notice how he’d finished three glassfuls of water to swallow a single pill yet his throat felt a lot parched lately as well._

_He feared acquiring some kind of flu, so he decided it was best for him to stay in the dorm rooms until he felt better. Only he felt much worse the following day when Vester was acting up yet again which, this time around, didn’t sit well with John Paulo. He only wanted to eat his lunch in peace for once, but off went the precious piece of meat when Vester accidentally swatted his hand that held his last spoonful of food. Regrettably, he wasn’t just feeling sickly that day; he was going extra sore headed as well. But even John Paulo himself was surprised to have snapped back at Vester, clearly unable to get a hold of himself._

_“I wonder how it feels, huh?” Vester sneered. “To be weak and emotional and have this weird liquid seeping through your ass all the time like—“_

_“Stop it.”_

_“I’m just saying—“_

_“I said stop it.”_

_That was all John Paulo got to say before he found himself walking away from the table and out of the cafeteria, storming past the dumbstruck stares of everyone around. It wasn’t like he did something despicable to Vester, although he was aware that nobody ever braved to walk out on him like that. But the fact that he wasn’t ordered back to the table and he was able to leave the place without anyone bothering him was enough to let John Paulo know that Vester wasn’t furious at him at least. The thought flustered him strangely enough, he could feel his entire face numbing with heat, so he walked briskly; totally ditching all of his afternoon subjects and spending the rest of the day sleeping in his dorm room, cocooned in a thick layer of fleece blanket._

_After that day, he no longer showed himself up to Vester the whole week until the spring break began._

♡

John Paulo believes he’s been quite productive for the entire spring break, being able to spend a lot of quality time with his family and some friends; planning picnics, and playing ball games every so often which he awfully missed doing with his siblings. But of course, he ensures to reserve some free time for himself as well. And by keeping himself occupied a great deal, he hasn’t had much time to care about the recurring headaches and itch, now coupled with sore muscles and an even hotter throat.

One cool afternoon, he is on his way home from a music store at the nearby mall when he chances upon the figure of a man weakly slumped along the slightly busy alley, holding tightly around a lamp post and visibly in pain or ill. Seeing how the passers-by simply neglect the helpless man, he grunts lowly and thinks about how fortunate he is to having been raised in a warm and courteous household.

He quickly comes to the stranger’s aid, who seems to be struggling to undo the buttons of his jacket off with his trembling hands, while small, pained whimpers are coming out of his mouth before he’s already collapsing into the ground. John Paulo holds him tight and turns him around carefully in hopes of keeping him awake, but to say that he is stunned after recognizing that the man was no other than Vester is an understatement.

“Oh shit, Vester? Vester!” he taps his warm cheek with gentle alarm. His lids are half-closed and John Paulo isn’t sure whether Vester can see or hear him at least. “God, you’re on fire. We need to get you home!”

Because a bolt of panic hits him from nowhere and without uncertainties, he scoops Vester up in his arms and rushes him to the Ajero’s Manor. Wherever he got the strength and the speed to do so, he couldn’t tell anymore. It could be the adrenaline rush, but that is a thought to ponder on for another day. All that matters is he has to get Vester home and fast.

Within minutes, he reaches the Ajero Manor and gently puts him down to his feet, mumbling a silent _thank goodness_ when Vester’s earlier pallid face and sweltering skin seem to have gone back to normal.

Knowing the future Alpha well enough, John Paulo doesn’t expect anything from the thoughtful gesture, aside probably from an eye roll or another string of insults like any given day. Sadly, the presumptions he had are correct, by all means.

“That’s the first and last time you’re touching me, Omega,” Vester says, and why is he even surprised? He is Vester Ajero after all.

There isn’t any reason for him to linger around the huge compound any longer so he takes one step back to leave, thinking he should also be going to bed straight away because truthfully, his head is starting to throb yet again.

_I should go home._

So yes, John Paulo should’ve been walking away already, but—

But…

_A scent._

A mist of something extraordinarily sweet, like a mixture of fruits and blossoms that you could smell richly during summer sails through the breeze, raining softly over John Paulo’s skin. He takes a whiff again; deeper this time, and his vision spins unsparingly.

This scent is nothing like any other. It was so powerful, so potent, and so…mouth-watering. John Paulo had never smelled such overwhelming sweetness in his life. It was sweet enough for him to taste it on the bed of his tongue, like a provocative perfume spritzed right into his face, slowly clouding every ounce of clarity he had left.

It has John Paulo’s eyelids drooping in a whirling sensation, his lips slightly apart as he begins to sniff harder, desperately looking for the source of that rousing fragrance hanging so thickly in the air.

_Strawberries; definitely fresh strawberries and something else._

_Lilies?_

_Lilies!_

He’s still sniffing around absentmindedly, ignoring the blooming lick of heat in his belly, and finds it immediately odd and embarrassing at the same time when he stops at where he believes the sweetness comes from. Because when John Paulo opens his eyes, his face is barely a few inches away from the material of the jeans stretched over Vester’s perfect ass.

John Paulo’s cheeks turn pink.

And turns even pinker when Vester turns around only to catch him sniffing his butt.

_Oh shit._

_Time to run!_

And that he does, without the need to be told twice when Vester does shoo him away. John Paulo spins on his heels and swiftly runs as fast as he could; running across the vast estate and out of the massive steel gates of gold. He runs across the busy streets, bumping on some people and tripping over a few times, but he keeps running. He keeps running without thinking, without looking back, because honestly, his mind has completely shut down, and he couldn’t understand what is happening. He has to run like a lunatic because if he doesn’t, he could’ve sworn he might’ve flung himself all over Vester and…and did something tremendously stupid and inappropriate.

The thought alone has John Paulo going mad. The _scent_ has him going mad, delirious even; like he isn’t acting nor thinking on his own. It is as if something else is controlling him from within, something strong, dangerous, and terrifying, clawing its way out of his flesh and bones.

_What the hell is going on with him?_

♡

There’s nobody in the house when he reaches home, which is absolutely fine because John Paulo doesn’t feel like seeing nor talking to anyone at that moment. His head is pounding like a hammer onto a nail, piercing through his brain, and the itch on the surface of his skin is only getting worse.

He turns on the air-conditioning to _high cool_ and topples himself lazily across his bed, rubbing his temples a little too harshly and contemplating whether he should’ve dropped by the drugstore before he got home. He twists and turns a few times across his mattress, burying his face into a couple of pillows while groaning in pain desperately.

Maybe it’s due to the weather? John Paulo prays, there can’t be another explanation, is there? It has been quite hot the past few days after all, which is a little odd since Spring isn't over yet.

Fumbling for his phone within his pocket, he quickly checks the current temperature outside and curses a little when the screen flashes an astounding 10 degrees Celsius.

_10 degrees is definitely not warm._

_What the hell?_

He starts to feel distraught, racking his brains out for any other possible causes if this wasn’t due to the climate. What could this be? There must be something. _Anything_. He’s definitely not okay and things are getting worse by the minute, he muses, absently wiping beads after beads of sweat forming on his forehead with the back of his hand. He can even feel the dampness of his scalp.

His chest begins to heave; from rapid and shallow breaths to slow and very deep ones, and every suck of air he drags past to his lungs is a battle.

_Water!_

It feels like his throat is begging for anything liquid, so he tears himself reluctantly away from the bed to get some ice-cold water, but the moment both his feet pin flat against the floor, he slides and eventually collapses, his back colliding with the harsh surface; his vision swirling in an obscure spiral and his knees feel wobbly, as though his bones underneath the muscles have dissolved into a heap of dust. He wants to throw up.

The corners of his eyes glistened as he squeezes them shut to stop his world from spinning, but as he does, a blistering heat infests the tips of his fingers and his toes; searing, boiling fever on the sheet of his skin, like white fire licking through all the veins in his limbs, and it was rapidly spreading throughout his entire system.

_Hot! Hot!_

_He’s on fucking flames!_

_Somebody help!_ He wants to scream, but his throat is parched as hell and he couldn’t produce a single sound.

_Help!_

He reaches for the hem of his shirt, crying out as he yanked it over his head with as much strength as he could summon. Only then does he notice the material is already soaked in his sweat. He tosses it heavily away without aiming for the hamper, the sound of wet fabric flopping soggily across the wooden floor.

_Gods! What is this?!_

John Paulo reaches out for the button of his pants next and struggles to undo it. With hands trembling vehemently as he pulls it forward; he feels as though he was pulling a ton! His back presses flatly against the floor now damp with sweat as well, producing annoying squeaks with his every movement. He squirms harder, yanking on his limbs seemingly weighted down to the ground by some violent magnetic force. He tries again, and again, and he finally succeeds!

“Ahh!! Come off,” pain and panic bleed in his voice, like gravel scraping against the walls of his windpipe. “Fucking come off!”

He flails his legs, crying out as he fearfully pulls his jeans and his underwear down, kicking haphazardly everywhere, hot tears flowing endlessly along his cheeks. He writhes underneath his naked skin, thrashing all over the place, his wavy hair sticking across his forehead and tear-stained cheeks.

“Mom!!!” he wails. “Mom! Where are you?!” but nobody is home.

Along with his painful cries comes a sudden shock that runs to the south of his body, all the heat in his extremities surging to that particular place, the heat building up there like a ball of fire licking and lapping every part that surrounded the thing between his legs. His abdominal and thigh muscles spasm, embossing from under his skin like lumps dancing along to some hurtful rhythm, a ripping scream escaping from his lips.

He takes a lot of effort to look down, his eyeballs bulging in shock as he watches his cock swelling to an excessive size, pressure building in the base of his genitals, the surrounding skin ripping apart from the stretch as the knot forms uncontrollably. It grows, and it keeps growing longer and thicker, the unimaginable pain atrociously sending hot white spurts of pleasure in the midst of his ordeal.

“Stop!!!” a horrified shriek echoes throughout the bedroom. “Stop growing, oh my god! What is this?! Please stop!”

But it doesn’t stop—

He gasps a mouthful of air when a thousand needle pricks break all over his skin, and he watches in horror as he sees the surface of his skin starts to tear apart like lands dismantling in huge chunks of earth. The now brittle, sandy skin cracks and he lets out a blood-curdling scream that has since turned into something vicious, and almost animalistic. He growls, slamming his head against the floor, the pain no longer matters against the agony his frail body’s going through.

He slams his head on the floor once more, the wood underneath his head breaks apart from the impact; his fists and the balls of his feet hammering together. His yells and the screaming from within him was too loud and overwhelming that John Paulo does not hear his bedroom door open, he does not hear Alex and Denise screaming at the sight of him and when Kev and Josue escort them out of the house, he does not hear his mother crying out for him and he does not hear his father cursing as he tries to come near him but he couldn’t.

His skin continues to break apart as the hairs on every pore of his body grow in length and thickness; his muscles shifting in both pain and swelling.

“My baby!” his mother screams, collapsing into the floor in a crying mess. “Gods please help my baby!”

“He’s presenting!” His father declares; eyes wide in terror. “But, w-what is this?”

John Paulo sees his fingers elongate to twice their normal size, thick jet-black hair covering every visible skin as they evolved into razor-sharp claws.

“No way,” his father mumbles almost inaudibly as he stood paralyzed in his spot. “T-this can’t be. How is this possible?”

“W-what’s happening Ted?” John Paulo’s mother whines. “What is going on?!”

“He’s turning.”

“What do you mean turning?” his mother chokes her sobs. “What do you mean turning?!”

The poor boy’s human ears seemed to have vanished into the thick fur, as a pair of huge, sharp ears emerged over his head, his gentle eyes now glowing bloody crimson, his mouth stretching across his distorting face with a snarl, and blade-like fangs extend from his gums, tendons in his neck popping but then it eventually vanishes into death black fur that has now covered his entire body. A furred muscle grows at the base of his spine and in a second, it was already a four feet-long tail, whipping to and fro with a force that splits into the silent air.

John Paulo rolls to the side, and begins to stand slowly on all four limbs, traces of his human voice dissipating into darkness, and a monstrous roar escapes between the massive canines of the giant wolf, rough, salivated tongue flickering in and out, teeth snapping in a thunderous bite.

John Paulo’s parents stood frozen before him, their heads tilted up as they take in his new form where every nightmare was made out of.

“John Paulo,” his father whispers shakily. “A-Alpha.”

His father holds his mother’s hands tight, shaking in fear, eyes locked into their son’s devil scarlet eyes, and they both fell down the floor in dread and hysteria at the revelation that no one has ever witnessed in the last fifty years; John Paulo, an Alpha-wolf shifter, the Demon eyed Lycan King.

♡

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***A Lycan or Lycanthrope is a werewolf/wolfman.

**Author's Note:**

> Yey! Chapter 1 ends here. It's a little difficult to squish the story when you have a required number of words lol. I hope you liked it! Thoughts?


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